Love Will Keep Us Alive ?
by Duchess of Earl
Summary: Complete short story. Shelle angst. AU - Belle thinks Jan was having Shawn's baby. On the night of the LBD 2002, she finally confronts him with it. It will be a night that will change both their lives forever, but as the sun rises, will Love be enough?


I disclaim. The characters of Days Of Our Lives are not mine, but this is a non-profit piece of fun. Or tragedy.

A.N.: Keep reading. It's not a double post. You'll see what I mean.

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Love Will Keep Us Alive (?)

The Last Blast Dance of 2002 was over. Auld Lang Syne had been played. The loving - or in the case of Philip and Chloe, bickering - couples had left, and in the dark gym only they remained. They weren't a couple. They weren't friends. They weren't anything, but a pair of lonely people lost in the night.

She stood quietly in the middle of the floor, staring downwards with a sense of shyness that she had never felt around him before.

"I heard about Jan," she said softly, pity in her voice.

He swung around sharply. "I suppose you've come to gloat."

Her blue eyes pierced his heart. "No." She answered, the word harsh in the silent air that tingled with suppressed emotion.

"I wouldn't blame you," it started as a snarl, but suddenly it trailed off and she heard the pain in his voice she had been trying to avoid ever since the day he had told her he had fathered Jan's baby. "You've earned your right. Go on, tell me I was a fool, a selfish child, a bastard, an unforgivable son of a bitch without a heart…"

"I wouldn't insult your mother," she answered him coldly, not letting the melting of her heart sound in her voice. "And I'm not about to gloat. I wouldn't, not when you've just lost your lover and your child."

"My child?" his voice cracked, and she looked at him oddly. Her eyes filled with tears and she gazed across the space between them. She would not let him manipulate her, not after the last year, but a decade of friendship lay between them too, and she could not forget that either.

"Shawn," her voice was quieter now, less unforgiving. "It will be all right. I mean, your Dad survived Billie and Georgia, didn't he?"

He stared at her like she was crazy. "Billie didn't die, and this is completely different."

"I know she didn't die," she hardened once more. "I do remember, you know."

"I'm surprised," then something flipped inside of him. Every trace of emotion vanished. "Belle," she breathed in softly. Hearing him say her name still sent shivers of pleasure through her body, even when he said it so coldly. "I'm leaving tomorrow to spend the summer with my relatives in Ireland."

"I know," she wrinkled her forehead. She didn't understand why he was telling her this. She knew as well as he did what his summer plans were. Mimi had spent hours going over them, making sure that she was 'all right'. As if she would ever be 'all right' again.

"And I won't be returning in September." There, he had said it. Anything after this would be easy. Dying would be easy now he had broken her heart completely.

"What?" She screamed it at him. "You're not coming back?"

"No." He didn't try to comfort her. She wouldn't accept him that way. Now he could only destroy her image of him before he left, so that she wouldn't miss him but hate him intensely. Loath him so much that finding a new lover would be easy. He had seen Brady move on from his messy relationship with Chloe with ease. Blacks were resilient. Belle could do the same.

"Fine." Her tone was terse. She was no longer interested in his mind games.

"You bitch," he muttered, staring into the darkness.

"What?" She stared at him. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. He couldn't have dared to call her such a name. This was his fault, all of it.

"I was referring to my deceased 'lover', as you entitle her. She's a bitch, was a bitch, and will always be a bitch." Shawn waved his hands in the air expressively, and stared at her in turn. "Sorry, I wasn't saying that to you. I would never say such a thing to you. You're lovely. I hate her."

She snorted. "I thought you loved her passionately. After all, she had your kid didn't she?"

"No," he gulped and looked over at her. "She didn't."

Another snort. "And I suppose Santa Claus impregnated her with the seed of Stefano."

He nodded, "You're nearly right. She was raped by 'Uncle' Paul on the island. That was why I didn't want you to go with him when I was in the pit. I didn't want that to happen to you." He sighed. "I actually had a brain back then."

"At last," she yelled, exasperated, into the night, "he admits it!"

Another nod. "I've been a fool, but you know what?"

"No." She shook her blonde head. "What?"

"We wouldn't have lasted." Three strikes and he was out - of her heart and her life, just as he should be. The lie would break her heart, but she would recover.

"Why the Hell not?" He had made her swear. He wondered if that counted as strike two, then decided to be sure of it.

"Because we weren't really in love. It was infatuation, and friendship, and quite a lot of lust, but love is different." He had his back turned to her, and she almost took her high heeled shoe off to throw it at him.

"How dare you judge my feelings!" She stormed at him. "How dare you? I love you," she failed to notice the present tense, but its presence hurt him, as he had hurt her moments before. "You have no idea what you did to me the day you told me, lied to me, and said you were the father of that bitch's bastard child! You never will, because I will never let you come that close to me again. You think you know everything, but you don't, and you never have."

"I know that we're over forever." She couldn't see his face, couldn't see the pain in his eyes, and his voice gave nothing away. He sounded cold, cruel even. "You say you loved me, but did you really? Why don't you admit that all we have was a huge crush on each other, something that would never stand the test of time."

"What is love to you?" She nearly added 'you arrogant stuck up bastard'.

"My great grandparents." He smiled, though she could not see it, at the thought of Tom. "I would never have made it the way they did. You wanted a knight in shining armour. I gave you a teenage tearaway with an earring. I would never have been good enough for you."

Strike two, he thought. Once more, and she would truly hate him forever.

"You were the best thing that could ever have happened to me, right up until you told Jan you'd keep her secret. You turned me from a spoilt Barbie wannabe into someone who gave a damn about the world around her. I will always owe you that," this time she added it, "but don't let that blow your already inflated ego up, you arrogant stuck up Jan lover."

It was the worst insult she could think of, and it stung him. He didn't react in the way she expected, though. He turned, and though the physical distance between them was the same, she could feel the force of his personality pull them together. "Then what did I do to you, Belle?" Another shiver. "I loved you unconditionally, and lied to you. I deserve everything I get. We weren't ever going to have a 'Someday', Belle. Marry some nice, rich guy with Gold Card and a country club membership, and forget you ever tried to rough it with a rebel wannabe."

"Rough it?" Strike three. This should send her over the edge, or so he reckoned. "Rough it? With you? The worst bad ass since Danny Zucco? Are you kidding? You aren't rough, Shawn-D., and you aren't tough. You're just screwed up, and God, no wonder. Look at your family."

"What about my family?" He would have growled it, but didn't have the energy. The words came out emotionless again, and he almost regretted saying them.

"You may be the poster child for love, but hardly for stability!" She threw her arms into the air. "Christ only knows how much you've been through growing up. It's surprising you aren't in therapy by now."

"Who says I'm not?" He glared at her, summing up the last of his strength.

"I do." She took a step forwards, her hands on her hips. "You're screwed up from the inside out, and…"

"And what, Isabella?" That did it.

"Christ only knows that… I love you!"

Then she was in his arms, kissing him madly, and finally understanding the truth: she would never give up on him because she had no choice. True love didn't let you hate, or loathe, or wish the other person away. No matter what they did to you, this was it. You were stuck with them, but by God it felt good. This Love was the blood pounding in your ears, the feeling that your heart was no longer in your chest, the snap and crackle of synapses firing, and the adoration that poured from your eyes when you gazed upon the object of your desire. It was undeniable, irresistible, and all powerful. You didn't stop loving someone like that. You died.

"Belle…" The last shiver she would ever feel from unfulfilled lust.

This was it. After months of fighting, her hating him and him hating himself, all that passion, love, hate, bitterness, idiocy, madness, came in one torrential outpouring, drowning them both. If there was music playing, they couldn't hear it. If the lights were on, their eyes could not detect them. Their senses were nothing. They knew only this: Love does not ask questions, Love does not reason, Love does not wonder, Love does not apologise - Love demands, and if you do not grant Its demands, It consumes you utterly. For too long they had denied Love, and now, their defences ripped down and the barriers destroyed, Love claimed its price.

Together in the golden morning light, the couple, for now they were a couple, no longer two separate beings, divided by distrust and fear, watched with wonder the town laid out at their feet, unafraid of the future, for there was nothing that could harm them while they were together.

"We never should have argued," she said softly.

"I should never have been such an idiot," he whispered gently.

"Yes," she nodded emphatically. "You were, but forget that now. I forgive you."

She laid his hand on her waist and drew him closer. "But you knew that."

"I knew."

A thousand kisses later, he stroked the hair from her face and smiled, unable to feel worried when she was so near. "I'm going to miss you so much."

She grabbed his hand, and clenched it tight in her own. "Where are you going?"

"I told you, Belle," a third shiver shot through her as he said her name once more, but now it was tinged by fear. "Ireland. Today. For the summer."

"But I thought…" Her blue eyes filled with tears. She had been a fool to believe him. "After last night…"

He let go suddenly, and turned away from her. "It's only for the summer. I'll be back in September, I promise."

"No," she was stern. He wasn't doing this to her again. "It's me or Ireland."

"They're expecting me." It was the first thing that came into his head. It was also very stupid, but she should have been used to that from him.

Then she walked away from him, knowing that he could beg her, but she wouldn't believe him. She broke into a run, desperate to remove herself from her shame and the fresh pain he was inflicting upon her. Tears ran freely down her face, and she vowed that this would be the last time she ever cried for him. He wasn't worth it.

"Belle!" This time the shiver did not come. She ran across the road, and heard his feet thundering after her, preparing herself for the moment when he would grasp her in his warm arms once more.

It came, but not as she expected. He pushed her, harder than he had pushed her since they were kids in the playground together, half throwing her across the road, and she fell onto the pavement with a crack. The sound, however, was drowned by the screeching of the truck's brakes.

She turned, and saw her lover lying in the road, where she would be if he had not seen the danger and thrust her from the truck's path.

There was blood everywhere. Not just on him, but across the front of the truck, the tarmac, and most vividly staining his shirt. She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She couldn't. She could not be a weak and feeble woman while her beloved lay, possibly dying, in the road. She must have the heart and stomach of a Queen. She ran to him, though it was only a few feet, and laid his head in her lap.

"I was coming to tell you," he stammered out, and she could see the specks of blood on his lips and the terrible paleness of his skin. His was the pallor of leprosy, or death.

"Hush," she kissed his forehead, and used her shawl to try to stop the bleeding. The wound in his chest looked so terrible, she was afraid he would not live.

"No," he took her little hand in his, "I wasn't going to Ireland, I was staying. I love you, Belle…"

His tight grip loosened, and his eyes closed.

"No!" She screamed, unable to believe that she was losing him so soon after finding him once more. "You are not leaving me!"

The trucker, guiltily calling the ambulance and sending a silent prayer to heaven, glanced down, and realised that if the boy died, he would have killed two people, not one. He prayed harder.

"You are not leaving me," she said again, quietly now, stroking the lock of hair that always fell over his eyes off his forehead and finding her fingers stained with his blood. Her voice shook, but her eyes were fervent with hope. She would not lose him now, not after the night, the Love, that they had just shared. "Love will keep us alive."

Love Will Keep Us Alive:

It was late September. The summer had passed and in the verdant green field, Belle laid a warm hand on her rounded stomach. The baby growing their kicked gently.

"Hush, little one," she said softly, "we're going to see Daddy."

The child kicked harder, and Belle took this as a sign of approval.

She quickened her pace. The strawberry ice cream, topped with marshmallows and marmite chocolate sprinkles was melting in her hand, so she licked a great swathe around the edge, savouring the strange combination of tastes. She stopped beneath a willow tree and rested herself against the trunk.

"Hey Shawn." She patted her stomach. "Baby and I have missed you. You'll never guess who we saw in Ballistix! Well you won't, so I'll just tell you. It was Brady and he was French kissing some girl with brown hair! We were as shocked as you are, but it certainly wasn't Chloe, she was way too pretty for that. Apparently she's engaged to Philip, but Mimi swears that it will all be off again in a few days. You know what those two are like. Oh, Mom wants to know when we should have the baby shower. I've never seen her so happy. It must be all that looking after Isaac that's done it. She's practically glowing. Your Mom's been great too. Do you like this dress? She lent it to me. Apparently Jan didn't fit into any of her maternity wear, and though it's a bit long, I think it looks pretty good, don't you?"

"Baby," he said from the ground by her feet. "You could wear a paper bag and look good."

She laid his hand on her stomach, forcing him to sit up. "I'm so glad you'll be here to see our baby born, Shawn."

"Me too," he smiled his trademark grin and gave her the red rose he had brought for her, pressing it against her lips as he planned to press his own lips moments later. "Someone was really looking out for us that day, weren't they?"

She shook her lovely head. "No," she smiled back, "I've told you. Love will keep us alive," and the baby kicked again, connecting its happy parents with joy and hope.

Love Won't Keep Us Alive:

It was late September. The summer had passed and in the verdant green field, Belle laid a warm hand on her rounded stomach. The baby growing their kicked gently.

"Hush, little one," she said softly, "we're going to see Daddy."

The child kicked harder, and Belle took this as a sign of approval.

She quickened her pace. The strawberry ice cream, topped with marshmallows and marmite chocolate sprinkles was melting in her hand, so she licked a great swathe around the edge, savouring the strange combination of tastes. She stopped beneath a willow tree and rested herself against the trunk.

"Hey Shawn." She patted her stomach. "Baby and I have missed you. You'll never guess who we saw in Ballistix! Well you won't, so I'll just tell you. It was Brady and he was French kissing some girl with brown hair! We were as shocked as you are, but it certainly wasn't Chloe, she was way too pretty for that. Apparently she's engaged to Philip, but Mimi swears that it will all be off again in a few days. You know what those two are like. Oh, Mom wants to know when we should have the baby shower. I've never seen her so happy. It must be all that looking after Isaac that's done it. She's practically glowing. Your Mom's been great too. Do you like this dress? She leant it to me. Apparently Jan didn't fit into any of her maternity wear, and though it's a bit long, I think it looks pretty good, don't you?"

Belle stared quietly at the green mound by the side of the willow tree. The headstone, complete with cherub and inscription, did not stare back, or answer her questions.

"I wish you were here to see our baby be born, Shawn." She clutched her stomach, praying she would not lose this child before it entered the world or die in giving birth to a stillborn child as Jan had. She knew that horror had haunted Shawn, who had held the girl's hand through it all to the end as he would not be able to hold hers. He had muttered, in his sleep on their only night together, of the blood, but when he touched her stomach, as if he knew, he became quiet and smiled.

She laid the red rose she had brought for him upon his grave, and knelt in silent prayer. "I guess our guardian angel failed us once again. They couldn't save us from Jan, and they couldn't save you from that truck."

A tear slid down her damask cheek and wet the rose's petals. She shook where she stood, alone in the sunlit cemetery, standing by her lover's grave with the child who would never know him within her, weeping not for herself, or her child, but for a love that would never be, and a life lost. She finally understood why he had told Jan he would be the father to her child. He could no more lose an innocent life to sin that he stop himself from saving her at the cost of his own life, but the realisation made her grief no less bitter. Turning away, towards the life that held no joy or hope, she said, "I was wrong, Shawn. I was wrong… Love won't keep us alive."


End file.
